


in reverse

by writerlily



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Curious Case of Benjamin Button - All Media Types, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 15:59:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11993100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerlily/pseuds/writerlily
Summary: He's an ugly little thing, they all learn, when Robb brings the friend that he hasn't been able to stop talking about around to the manor, showing him off like some brand new toy.**A Benjamin Button AU that no one asked for**





	in reverse

He's an ugly little thing, they all learn, when Robb brings the friend that he hasn't been able to stop talking about around to the manor, showing him off like some brand new toy. 

Sansa can hardly hold back the scrunch of her nose at his wrinkled face, but he seems nice enough and charmingly blushes any time she makes eye contact with him. 

"This is Jon," Robb introduces him to the family and all it takes is one look at the boy from Ned for Jon to practically be declared as part of the Stark family. 

Jon is as wrinkly as old nan and Sansa finds it curious that a boy near Robb's age could look so positively old. He's even dressed like an old man-- in trousers with a shirt that's tucked in. He shifts his weight from left to right and gives them all a shy, polite smile. He's a curious person, and Sansa can't help but watch him closely.

"Why do you look like that?" Arya says suspiciously as she crosses her arms and steps directly up to Jon's face to assess him with her angry looking eyes. 

" _Arya_ ," their mother says sharply, yanking her away from Jon. "Don't be rude," Cat practically hisses. 

"It's all right ma'am," Jon says. _Ma'am_. Sansa hides a smile behind her hand. Jon sheepishly rubs a hand on the back of his neck. "I get that question more often then you think."

His response makes Ned and Catelyn frown, but Sansa steps in on her very tip toes. 

"I'm Sansa," she says, giving him a polite little smile, because she can tell that Jon is shy and wouldn't say a single word to her himself. He's cute, in a strange way, and it's a startling realization because he's not tall and gallant as the princes and knights she daydreams about. 

"It's nice to meet you," he says, with a small quirk of his lips, showcasing a tiny dimple on his cheek, and _oh_ , it is rather endearing on his little old face. 

"I'm a dancer," she says, gesturing down to her shiny pink flats that she's taken to wearing almost everywhere. 

Jon dutifully looks down at her feet and nods. "Ballet," he guesses correctly, earning him another bright smile from her. Jon opens his mouth like he's going to say something else, but is quickly swept away by Robb before he's given the chance. 

"Come on Arya," Robb yells over his shoulder as he laughs. Her brother's hair is a mess of thick, auburn curls that bounce almost as much as his own personality. Arya easily joins in with them, not caring about the mud that flicks and splatters against her clothes with their jumps in the field. 

Sansa would rather stay here by herself than get dirt all over her. She sits on one of the wooden steps, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her dainty little palm.

"Oh the poor thing," her mother says as they watch Jon hobbling, trying to keep up with Robb and Arya's livelier strides. Jon's back is slightly hunched over and the little wisps of white hair sprinkled on his head blow softly in the wind. "I hope the children aren't too rough on him."

Sansa laughs at the way her mother places a hand to her chest. She knows Catelyn Stark and her strong maternal instincts and knows without a doubt that the Stark matriarch is thinking of every possible way she can try to take care of the boy. 

"It might be good for Jon's joints," Ned says as he leans against the back porch railing and watches the children playing around in their expansive backyard, eyes focusing on Jon. "It'll be good to stretch them out and get some exercise," he says thoughtfully, rubbing a hand on his chin. 

"Will he be staying the whole break?" Sansa asks innocently, looking up at her parents through her thick lashes. 

Her parents exchange a look. "If it's okay with his parents, then I don't see why not," Ned says. "We have more than enough room."

Sansa snorts. That's an understatement. Stark manor could house the half the town of Winterfell if they wanted. 

Bran tugs on their father's arm and climbs up Ned's body, settling himself like a tiny koala on his back. Ned hardly looks perturbed, completely used to Bran climbing about on anything and anyone. Her parents go back inside the house, leaving Sansa on the back porch by herself, her thoughts running a mile a minute.

She turns back around to look at Jon. He has a wide, toothy smile on his face as Robb dances around like a monkey and Arya tries to throw rocks at his face. 

She bites her lip, thinking that Jon staying over would be _interesting_ , to say the least. 

\--

She's wrong about that. 

More often than not, she's at ballet practice all day and by the time she gets home she's absolutely exhausted and does nothing more than eat, shower, then sleep. 

And when she's not at ballet practice, she's hardly one to be spending her time in the dirty treehouse and Robb, Jon, and Arya have seemingly declared their clubhouse and bedroom for the break. She's in the house, twirling around on the wooden floors, stitching wolves and flowers on every scrap of fabric she can find. 

One night, she tip toes to Jon's room. The door opens easily and she glides over to where his body is curled up like a baby on the large bed. 

"Jon," she whispers, shaking his shoulder until his eyes slowly open. 

"Sansa?" He asks in his half awake, half asleep delirium. "What are you doing in here?"

She gently pushes his legs aside and sits on the edge of his bed. "I made this for you," she gives him a secretive smile and pulls out a handkerchief with a wolf embroidered onto the corner. 

"You came here in the middle of the night to give this to me?" He asks, taking the thin fabric out of her nimble fingers. Sansa almost frowns at his question, wonders if she's made a downright fool of herself for coming here at all, but then his lips tilt up in that very sweet way of his. "Thank you, Sansa."

He looks up at her and the only light in the room is from the moon shining through the window. His hair looks even more silver and his eyes... they look _purple_. Sansa tilts her head in confusion, wondering if it's just the trick of the light that makes him look a bit younger. 

And even more handsome.

Sansa bites her lip and slips off of his bed, her feet gently landing on the cold floor. "You're welcome," she whispers, and throws one last look at him over her shoulder before she closes his door and quietly walks back to her own room. 

A smile pulls at her lips when she lays down. 

\--

"What do you mean Jon left?"

Robb pouts as he crosses his arms over his chest. "His mother told him he was needed back at home," he sighs and flops down completely on the couch. The sweater he's wearing has a large 'W' stitched on the front and Sansa watches as his fingers pick at the threading. 

She frowns. "Will he be back?" 

"Don't know," Robb shrugs and stares at the ceiling. Then suddenly he jumps up, and grabs a hockey stick off the floor. 

"Where are you going?" She calls out to him as he pulls his coat on. 

"Why are you asking so many questions?" He snaps back at her and Sansa has half a mind to throw her knitting needle at his big head. "I'm going to go see what Theon is up to."

Sansa rolls his eyes at the fact that he still bothered to answer her question that he seemed so annoyed by. She doesn't wish him farewell when he leaves, and she sits in the middle of the play room by herself, wondering if she'll see Jon sometime soon. 

\--

Sometime soon ends up being years later. 

Sansa is older this time, but nowhere near having the wrinkles and creaky bones that Jon had. Time has been kind to her by stretching out her already long limbs and giving her the ballerina body that she always hoped she would have. 

His sudden reappearance at their house surprises her when she gets home from practice one day to find Jon in the living room, two old looking suitcases sitting next to him, and her parents looking worried. 

"Just for a couple months at least, until I can get a job and save up to get my own place," Jon says to Ned and Cat. 

Ned shakes his head. "You don't have to worry about that son," he places a hand on Jon's shoulder. "You're free to stay here as long as you need."

They haven't noticed her lingering by the doorway. Being in ballet most of her life has made her quiet on her feet and this advantage lets her glimpse at Jon after all this time has passed. 

Time has not only been kind to Sansa, but to Jon as well.

He hardly looks like the wrinkly, little old man that she remembers wobbling around the manor during her childhood. He looks-- and it is odd, indeed-- that he has reversed in age. There are still some lines around his face, but they're not as severe as before. He even stands straighter-- no longer is there a hunch in his posture-- and it adds height to the small stature she remembers him having. He's wearing glasses, although they're perched precariously at the bottom of his nose instead of resting on the bridge where they should be. She and Jon almost look like they're around the same age, and it sends a thrill through her, although she's not quite sure why. 

Sansa bites her lip, wondering who this new man in that stands in her living room. His eyes look as soft as ever and it's such an appealing characteristic. It's nothing like the mean glares that Joffrey would always send her way. No, Jon is an entirely different species from that of Joffrey it would seem. Sansa rests a shoulder against the door frame and the move is a costly one because it gives away her location. 

Jon's eyes find hers and she can't help the small gasp that escapes her lips, her hand coming up to hide her mouth. 

"Sansa," he says as greeting and takes his hat off. It's such a small, polite gesture that it makes her drop her hand and openly smile at him, especially when she notices that his once silver hair now seems to be completely black.

She steps in the room and her father moves to kiss her cheek. "I didn't know you were home already, love," he says and Sansa can't keep her eyes off of Jon, even as she hugs her mother. 

"What are you doing here?" She asks, finally addressing Jon and the somber look returns. 

"Jon is staying with us from now on," her mother says helping Sansa shrug off her black coat. 

"From now on," she repeats silently, casting a curious glance at Jon. 

"Show him to the room next to Robb's," her mother all but commands her to and Sansa looks down at the scuffed up work boots that Jon is wearing. 

She passes him, her shoulder gently brushing his, heartbeat thumping loudly against her ribcage. It's curious that Jon has this effect on her, but then again Jon is a curious boy so maybe it's not so odd after all. 

"Have you eaten today?" She asks as they make their way upstairs. Robb is at his college and won't be home until the weekend, yet Sansa finds that she doesn't mind being the one to show Jon to his room. 

His room that _isn't very far_ from hers, she notes. 

She glances at him over her shoulder. He has a small smile on his face. "As polite as ever," he says. His voice isn't as rough as when they first met. It sound smoother, richer, and Sansa hides her blush by facing forward. "I haven't eaten yet, no."

He comes to a stop behind her once she reaches his room. She gently pushes the door open and gives Jon a reassuring smile. "When you're done getting settled, help yourself to food in the kitchen," she says as she sets his suitcase down. 

Sansa steps away from him, but pauses when he says her name. 

He looks unsure as he straddles the line between staying in the hallway and entering his room. "I hope you don't mind having me here," he says, looking down at his shoes. 

Sansa laughs and the sound has Jon tilting his head up at her. She bites her lip before deciding on something. She places a chaste kiss on his cheek, where it's smooth and smells like aftershave. "I don't mind at all, Jon."

Her smile only grows wider when his cheeks go as red as her hair.


End file.
